Not Again
by MellodramaticLawliet
Summary: Tony hasn't had an anxiety attack this bad in years, and of course this is exactly when Cap decides it's the best time to talk about what happened in Siberia. /Stony/


He was silently losing his mind. The great Tony Stark: genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, was bent nearly double, hands braced on his knees, trying his absolute damnedest not to defile his latest suit blueprint with the contents of his stomach, which at this point was mostly scotch.

Dum-E, new and improved, made a move as if to spray him with a fire extinguisher and he glared at it until it powered down dejectedly. He took a few staggered steps and sat heavily on the stool in front of his workbench, leaning forward to let the metal table cool down his burning forehead.

He hadn't had an anxiety attack this bad since the months following the Mandarin, not since he'd sought help and started to talk through his trauma, starting with New York. At that thought, flashes of the wormhole flitted through his mind and his stomach reeled again, his breath coming in quick pants. He screwed his eyes shut, recalling the voice of his therapist, trying to remember what she'd told him about regulating his breathing.

Peter had asked one too many questions earlier after the team meeting and Tony nearly lost it when the symptoms first reared their ugly heads. Tony was afraid he'd been a little harsh on the kid, but he just… When the heaviness settled on his sternum, and he got the overwhelming feeling that he needed to be out, away, just… _not there right now asap, _he knew he needed to be alone at any cost.

He swiped the nearest glass off of his worktable, feeling a gritty sort of pleasure at the sound of it shattering against the floor. This wasn't supposed to happen anymore. Not this badly… He'd been a good boy, he took his meds every morning, saw his therapist once a week, practiced the breathing exercises… and now today he couldn't even talk to Rhodey and the kid for more than a minute without having to leave the room.

His insides felt itchy, like his skin didn't fit correctly and his muscles didn't know what to do about it. There was an antsy sort of weight settling itself in, that was encouraging him to either crawl into bed or build ten more suits.

"Tony?"

_Oh god, not now._ The voice, while one he'd yearned to hear for nearly two years now, grated against his frayed nerves like steel wool. He couldn't. He couldn't deal with this right now. He couldn't deal with people, and drama, and the goddamn avengers. He'd just barely managed to make an excuse to Rhodey and escape down here before the convulsions started. And this was the last voice that would make him feel better at the moment.

He half turned, stopping when the person's figure edged into the corner of his vision, hoping his panic wasn't evident on his face, "The prodigal son returns. Don't you have people to save? Nazis to punch? Governments to hide from?"

He heard Steve huff a laugh from behind him, "I've been pardoned in all but 5 of those countries. Something about saving half the universe?" Tony winced, and turned back around when he heard Steve approach the workbench. He'd meant to make his comment sound uninviting, but he hadn't quite been able to manage that with Steve for a long time now.

He hurried to busy his hands, tinkering with the discarded circuit board for a failed project he'd meant to throw out weeks ago, despite the heaviness in his chest increasing with every millimeter he moved. _Just a few minutes, he'll get the hint eventually._

"Tony?"

His voice was even more uncertain this time, and he could tell that Steve was trying to get a closer look at his face, so he half turned toward him, "What do you want, Rogers? Can't you see how incredibly busy I am with this…" His mind churned painfully, "Thing?"

"That… thing." Steve repeated; his voice careful. Normally Tony would try to decipher the meaning behind that, but he was currently busy trying to focus on holding the jagged edges of his mind together with scotch tape and chewing gum, "Look, Tony, I-"

"You don't have to say anything." Tony cut through his words, "Bygones and all that. We don't have to talk about it."

He could practically hear cap gritting his teeth in frustration and prayed that he'd take his words at face value, he'd go through damage control later, right now he just needed to spiral by himself. The last thing he wanted to confront at the moment was their fallout in Siberia.

"I think we do, I-" Cap cleared his throat and Tony dug his nails into his palm, trying to ground himself enough to go through his breathing exercise discretely, "I want to talk about it."

"Well I don't." Tony snapped back, keeping his eyes glued to the circuit board in his hands.

He expected cap to huff exasperatedly. He expected him to made a comment about Tony's arrogance. He expected him to leave. What he wasn't expecting was for Cap to grip his shoulder and turn him around on the stool, his expression determined and his eyes burning with something Tony couldn't quite put a name to.

"What's wrong with-" He saw the exact moment that he took in Tony's haggard appearance, surprise taking over his features, "What's… Tony what's wrong?"

Tony opened his mouth to give him a snarky comment, drag him to within an inch of his life with sarcasm, but instead to his surprise, the only thing that came out was a meek, "Help me."

His breathing grew increasingly ragged again, and in his mind's eye he saw a girl named Erin, her crayon drawing of him, and his signature with a speech bubble that just said "help me, Erin!" But that was years ago. This wasn't supposed to happen anymore.

A small part of him that wasn't being smothered under the weight of his own self inflicted demons enjoyed the panicked little hand motions that Steve made when he said that, his face betraying a moment of horrified panic, before he carefully schooled his emotions again.

He reached out a hand as if to put it on Tony's shoulder but retracted it quickly when Tony winced, "Do you, uh… Should I go get Rhodes?"

"No! God no, just…" He hadn't meant to say it that harshly but the last thing he wanted was for even more people to see him like this, "It'll stop soon, I can't-" His words were choked off by another wave of anxiety and he wished Cap would just leave.

"Jesus Tony." Cap looked like he was halfway between exasperated and horrified, "How long has this been happening?"

"Oh you know," Tony rolled his eyes, "Just since New York."

He didn't have to be looking at Cap's face to know the exact expression he was making, something stuck between concern, frustration, and worry, the little wrinkle between his eyebrows making an appearance. There was a time not too long ago when he would give anything to see that expression again, to be able to lean in and kiss away that wrinkle away.

"Why didn't you tell any of us?"

"Oh yeah because telling the world's greatest most perfect defenders that not only are you broken, but broken to the point of needing medication to get through the day is such an easy task. Especially when most of you have been through much worse than I have."

"We haven't-" Steve cut off at the look on Tony's face, clearly sensing that his next words would only spark an even bigger argument, "…Pain is relative."

"Oh spare me your motivational bullshit." Tony pushed his hand away yet again, "Just let me hate myself in peace."

Steve was quiet for a moment, and when Tony finally looked up, Cap looked smaller than he'd ever seen him, "The hell Tony… You can't do everything on your own, the weight of the world isn't just yours and you shouldn't have to carry it alone."

"Language." He muttered, a choked laugh escaping before he could stop it, and Steve let out a surprised laugh as well.

After a beat of silence, he said quietly, "It's been years, and you still can't let that go."

Tony felt his mouth twitch when he tried to smile and knew what was coming next. Instead of breaking down where he sat, he stood and wrapped his arms around Steve's shoulders.

Steve stood shell shocked for a second, his whole body tense, and Tony had to admit that it was strange hugging another person, particularly another adult (besides maybe Pepper or Rhodey) but at the contact he felt the tightness in his lungs loosen just a bit, just enough to ease the itching under his skin. When Cap's arms wrapped tentatively around his waist he finally let go.

"Tony," Steve was rubbing his back awkwardly, but Tony couldn't bring himself to care, "You're not- This isn't okay. You need to get help-"

"You think I haven't?" Tony grit his teeth and pressed his chin further into Steve's shoulder, "I'm on medication, Steve, I see a therapist every week. There's no reason the rest of you should have to deal with my bullshit."

"Back in my day – shut up Tony – Back in my day we didn't really talk about this sort of thing, if you were depressed, or anxious, or anything you didn't talk about it, you didn't acknowledge it, and it was… it was shit, Tone."

Tony wasn't sure what to make of the use of the nickname, but sensed that he wasn't done talking.

"You need to talk to people, and I don't just mean your therapist, I mean the rest of us. Your friends."

Tony huffed, keeping his head on Cap's shoulder, "You certainly sound like my therapist." Before Steve could interject he continued, "But are we even still friends? Steve, I gotta be honest with you pal, I have no idea what we are these days."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

Tony started to pull away but Steve held on tighter, "Not right now, I get that. But later, when you're better I want to talk it out. I want to apologize-"

"Stop. Just Stop." Tony shook his head, feeling vaguely asthmatic again, "Later."

He felt Steve nod into his shoulder. Tony had so much he wanted to say. He wanted to talk about their ruined friendship, his anger, his regret, and the feelings that had never really seemed to go away. How much it hurt in his chest whenever someone had brought him up in the past two years.

He knew there was an unspoken tension between them before, and he knew that Steve knew that as well. What that meant to him, and what it means to him now is another mystery, but for now Tony just wanted to sink into the warmth of this hug, and convince himself that they'd be alright in the end.

He wasn't sure if he imagined it when Cap pressed a kiss to the side of his head, but he could focus on that and everything else later. All he wanted to focus on at the moment was the warm solid feeling of Steve in his arms and the relief flowing through him as his anxiety slipped back to its dark corner in the back of his mind.

**A/N**

**I've never written any marvel fics before, but I figured that in honor of Endgame coming out in the next few days I'd dust off one of my oldest ships. I needed to get this one off of my chest, because I have a horrible feeling they're going to kill off Tony Stark, which would be… Honestly heartbreaking.**

**Tony Stark has always been really important to me as a character, and not just because I have a thing for science and robotics. First off, he's a character that fucks up over and over again, but the thing is that he learns from it **_**every single time**_**. Even things that weren't his fault i.e. getting captured in Afghanistan, he turned into a learning curve because that's just what his character does – he learns. **

**I honestly have to stop myself from tearing up whenever someone mention's Tony's anxiety because as someone who has suffered from mental illness for years and years and has to be on medication to get by it really meant a lot to me to see one of my heroes literally get knocked down by his anxiety and still manage to get back up. This is a character that is constantly improving, constantly fixing himself, and constantly staring the universe in the eye and daring it to do better and it really means a lot to me to hear them actually say the words "severe anxiety attack" on screen to describe one of the strongest and smartest characters in the MCU. **

**MDL**


End file.
